The Tuesday Erotica Club
by Lisa Beth Kovetz

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I love you erotica here is my passion is raw What a wonderful letter you have (finally)! Sent me. It was worth The wait, but I really was getting frantic, thinking it's not possible he Does not want to write, so what is wrong? When I can't have your prick nor see your Body to lust after, I need your words to savor the action you describe, to dream Of whatever you say. I know we would do it all if only we had the time and Safety. I have so often thought if only we had met when I was young and we could have married, what a wonderful life we would have had. We would have lived more the way you would like to live, more outdoors, camping. Wouldn't it have been Great to fuck under the stars, all over the country? And I would always have loved and caressed your body (as I long to do now). It is funny, in my fantasy last night you were tied to the posts in my bed and when you woke up it was because I was naked at your feet, massaging them and licking them, with my hands going up your legs until I raised my body a little and put my hot pussy onto your toes and used them to fuck a litlle as I moved my tits up your legs, dragging them slowly. When I reached your chest I pushed my tits onto your hairiness and kissed your neck and fucked your ears with my tongue. You were frantic, trying to get loose , so you could put your prick where it was dieing to go, but my leg held it down until I began slapping your face with my tits. You were trying to catch a nipple in your mouth so you could suck it...but i had something else for your mouth...my cunt!!!My legs were spread so my clit was visible, fat and engorged. Your hot tongue licked and sucked and then fucked my slit as only you can do. ( You should have all the sexual confidence in the world because you are such a great lover. You can do amazing things with your tongue and Your dick is a divine instrument!! ) I rode your face until I pushed down to come on your big daddy prick, rammed deep deep into my dripping pussy. ....Truly, These were my images last night (when I had a terrible time sleeping because I was so hot for you) and then you write me almost the same! Our sensuality is so much the same, its amazing. Why did fate have to let our ages be thus? I do thank fate or God for sending you to me. You do realize you are the most important person in my life, don't you? Oh yes, I want to pleasure you and pleasure you. I am your hot bitch, I am your whore who can't get enough of her master I think of you, I dream of you, I want you. I am so glad you have told me more about how you'd liked to be sucked. I want to become even better at it . I want you to reach the stage where when you look at my lips you start to get hard just remembering how wonderful your last come was. I want that prick to throb for desire of me! I'll stroke it, lick it, kiss it, Suck it and drink your cream and after a little rest you will reward me by Plunging your cock into me and fucking hell out of me...Can you tell that I need big daddy? Please Write. I need your letters. I love you so, C.

the pleasure police You don't know how, but I found out who you were and where you live. I'm with the Pleasure Police, and our job is to find the horny, unsatisfied women of Salem and bring them to heights of pleasure. Our best source of leads is craigslist. It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it. I entered your apartment around 10:30 p.m. on Wednesday, August 2, 2006. You were in your comfortable chair, dressed in a red silk nightgown, drinking an evening glass of white wine to relax before bed. Erotic thoughts skipped across your mind like stones, in between practical thoughts of work and grocery shopping. But the erotic thoughts created concentric circles in your mind and before you realized it, your free hand was drawing concentric circles on your labia. That's when you saw me standing there and stifled a shriek. Without speaking, I walked over to your chair, knelt, pushed up your nightgown and started licking your pussy and, as it became enlarged, licking and sucking your clit. You put down the wine, threw your head back, and placed both hands on my head to encourage me. I worked slowly and steadily, increasing tongue speed and pressure, until your moaning became louder and you began to drip wetness. I found your breasts with my hands and squeezed your nipples while licking faster, harder, until you clenched your hands on my head and pushed it hard against you, screaming and cumming, and cumming again. Then I stood in front of you and told you to do the same for me. You stood and we kissed. I removed my shirt and instructed you to suck my nipples. The Pleasure Police are confident men and not afraid to admit we have more than one erogenous zone. As you complied, I unfastened my pants so you could begin caressing my balls and the already-hard cock. I pressed your head downward so you would sit and be mouth-level with my cock. You knew what to do then, and sucked and licked as if you were very hungry. You got me close, but I stopped you, stood you up, turned you around and told you to grab your ankles. I entered you from behind and thrust hard. I was so far along that it only took a couple of minutes more before I spewed my come deep inside you. I pulled out, we wiped clean and then you sat in my lap, both of us naked, and kissed for uncounted minutes more. I stood, dressed, said, "Thank you, ma'am," (as the Pleasure Police are nothing if not polite) made an entry in my log and left. You slept happily ever after. My work was done. --- Al Sensu www.erotischism.com

Subway Story


My first real job after college, I used to take the crosstown shuttle to work every day. The train can be oppressively crowded at rush hour, but it’s a quick ride – just one stop. One morning, I was the last one to squeeze through the doors, which isn’t a bad place to be because once the doors close, you get to lean your back against them and read the Times, and even if it’s too crowded to open the paper, you get to exit the train first.


That morning, the train was too crowded to read. No one had more than a few inches to spare, and every time the train rocked someone bumped into someone else. Times like that, you’re especially grateful for the door. Sure, I still got bumped by the woman in front of me, but at least I was only getting it from one side. Now this, I thought to myself, would be an especially embarrasing time to get an erection.


See when you’re young, poorly timed erections are a frequent cause for worry. And the woman did happen to be bumping right where she’d notice it. And the more she bumped me, the more nervous I got because, as any young man knows, you can only get bumped in the crotch by a woman’s butt so many times before you do get an erection. And, sure enough, as quick as that thought swelled into being, so did the rest of me.


So what the hell was I supposed to do? In two seconds, she was going to notice and start screaming. We’ve all heard of those guys – the humpers, the rubbers, the flashers – drooling perverts who wear newspaper for socks and lick toilet seats. In two seconds, I was going to be one of those guys, and everyone in the subway car would know it. Me! I mean I’m a goddamn femenist. In college, I was in a fucking take-back-the-night march.


I prayed we’d reach the station before the police arrived. I pressed myself back against the door, as far from her as I could get, but it didn’t work. She still bumped. It was almost as if the tighter I squeezed against the door, the more she bumped me.


And they I got a crazy idea. Was she doing this on purpose? No, that’s too crazy. But she is bumping me a lot. More and more, in fact. And there’s no way she doesn’t notice. I’m hard as a doorknob. And then she leans back, and I have my answer. She leans into me, and I don’t know what makes me happier – the relief that I’m not going to prison or the sweet knowledge that this strange woman actually wants me hard against her ass.


Her back is warm against my chest. I feel her ribs expand when she breathes. Her hair brushes my chin. And she’s not pretending to bump me anymore. She’s grinding, slowly and evenly against me. And I press myself back into the groove between her cheeks. And she feels good. She feels just right.


I snap out of it for a second and glance around the car, amazed that no one is watching. But she quickens her pace, and I’m drawn back into our little bubble, grinding and breathing together, faster and faster, me and this stranger, whose face I haven’t seen, in a sea of people who have no idea.


How long does this last? I can’t remember. Ten minutes? Ten seconds? Then the doors shoot open, we spill out into Grand Central Station, and I don’t look back. Please understand, I wasn’t ready for any of this. I was in a relationship and wasn’t looking for a change. But since then, I’ve forgotten so many relationships, and I’ve never forgotten that faceless woman.


JEFF - NYC

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It's great! Very enjoyable! Anto


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Elizabeth drove very carefully back to her house. She threw on her dress but he took her underwear and wouldn't give it back. Driving down dirt roads he kept his hand on her upper thigh and when she hit a bump it would rise up with the road. They arrived at the empty house. Elizabeth threw the truck into park and turned to kiss Max. She was ready to make love to him in the front seat. Max kissed and touched and unzipped the back of her dress but if this was going to be a one time thing, he wanted it to be better than the front seat of her truck.

Elizabeth slept in the room that had been her parents. On her way up the stairs she took a sharp right into the room that had been hers as a kid. Max had never seen the canopied bed and the cheerleading pom poms.

"Elizabeth, you were a princess," he laughed.
She could not answer. She wanted him right now. He rolled off his jeans and pulled her dress over her head. Elizabeth pushed him onto the bed. He sat up and kissed her breast, then lifted her and lay her down next to him and proceeded to explore her body with his mouth.

None of Elizabeth's cowboy boyfriends had adventured much lower than her navel. They made a brave effort at exploration but had to turn back at the first sign of pubic hair. Max dove in with relish and kept at it until she was pulling at the faded pink of her old quilt. She gasped and twitched and couldn't imagine that there would ever be a better feeling then what was happening now, when suddenly he was inside her.

She sat up and pushed him back against one of the post of the canopy bed. She wrapped herself around him so her feet hung off the sides and started to rock against him.

Max looked at her, with her eyes closed and her mouth a round 'o' of surprise and pleasure. Then she opened her eyes. She looked at him and she was so there, so present in the moment that Max believed he would vanish from the earth if she ever took her eyes off him.

Then she opened her mouth and licked both of her thumbs. That's odd, thought Max and then he shivered. She placed the damp of her thumbs one against each of the nipples on his chest and pressed. Max had never considered the sensuality of his own chest but when Elizabeth traced wet little circles with her thumbs he began to gasp. Her hands drove him to distraction. He wanted to be on top of her. She wanted the same and for a moment it looked like she would win, but he moved her hands and she slipped down onto the quilt.

As they moved together she told herself she would get on top of him next time, but did not, in her current state of excitement register that he was leaving tomorrow for L.A. and there would be no next time.

Max was starting to moan. He looked at her. The sweat had built up on her lower lip and he could feel the same all across her chest. He couldn't hold back much longer, but he deeply believed that if you have no intention of calling a woman again, you should at least make sure she fully enjoys the brief time you have with her. When he could feel her body spasming from the inside and he let loose.

Max roared. (When she mentioned it later he would deny it.) In spite of the circumstances, in spite of the fact that he was planning to leave, Max thought, 'my Elizabeth,' and he held onto her until the last bit of their orgasms faded away.

by Missoula Mrs. *************************************